Servant of Zero
by Mazuku Torai'nu
Summary: Rather than an ordinary youth off of the streets of Japan, Louise manages to summon forth a spirit from outside time and space. Now saddled with a snarky and embittered counter guardian with no intentions of conforming to his position as a familiar, what is she to do?
1. Chapter 1

And I exist.

Being a Heroic Spirit is a funny existence, you know. Being a Counter Guardian even more so, I tell you. Well, maybe less funny and more morbid and depressing on that latter count, but I digress.

Being Deployed is always a new experience, no matter how many times it has happened, it's always a first time. The knowledge of having been Deployed thousands of times exists, but the experience isn't memory per se. Each existence simply scatters at the end of its appointed task and completed duty, the recording being all that is returned to the Throne of Heroes. Not memories, but raw knowledge.

Like being a hundred thousand dust particles about the be scattered into the wind a moment before snapping into a single form, motion sickness like the worst amusement park ride imaginable, head abuzz with new information and mission parameters and objectives...

Actually, that's the thing that alarms me first that there's something funny going on. The lack of my head being split in two by a headache is something I know is strange. Secondly, I realize that I realized that. Which is a sign in an of itself, too. Being aware that you're aware is always a bit confusing, trust me.

Deployed Heroic Spirits generally aren't sentient, much less intelligent enough to think. Deployed Counter Guardians never are. No need for it really, they're just killing machines after all. Cleaners, Janitors, the final solution, fire and steel, oblivion and dust.

So, a summoning, I surmise near instantly. Another war perhaps? My honed magical detection and my senses have already noticed a great number of living beings around me, though not a single sign of an ongoing struggle or fights of any sort. I also note that the quantity and... "quality" of prana and life I sense varies greatly. Humans and others beings mixed and grouped together.

That's a third sign. I now am completely certain I'm not being deployed. There's almost always smoke, blood and screams whenever I get to do my "job". It's almost relaxing; existing for a moment without immediatly springing into motion and a flurry of steel and scorching death.

I open my eyes, less than a handful of seconds have passed since I came into existence and I notice that my arrival seems to have kicked up a slight cloud of dust. As my eyes finally pierce the dust, I blink.

I must stress this: the peaceful green field, the beautiful blue sky, the innocent gaping faces of people I don't have to strike down mercilessly. It is very, very relaxing.

And then I see her.

Short. That's my first thought. Pink hair? That's my second. Her confused and gaping face tells me that she wasn't expecting this, though her relative closeness compared to any other living being and her raised... wand...? seem to indicate that she's the one behind my coming into existence.

My Master, as it would be.

I snort and my visage curls into a smirk naturally. She realizes I've noticed, weighed and judged her, her childish face twisting into a scowl seemingly naturally as well. Not a happy camper, it seems.

A crowd behind her jeers and laughs at her in a language I don't understand- No, wait. French of some sort. I do speak it, I think. Advantages of being a representative of the Will of All of Humanity, I figure. Probably. Maybe.

They, or rather It, could probably put that on the "Looking for new employees!" ad: Travel around the world, meet and converse with lots of interesting and active people, learn to speak all the languages ever spoken!

Effortlessly slipping into a language I'm positive I've never spoken in life or in after-life before(after? I must find out the grammatically correct term for parallel existences and possible time travel, I note.), I seek out the short girls' gaze. "I ask of you..." Her attention snaps back to me from the laughing onlookers, whatever she had been about to say completely forgotten.

"Are you my Master?"

She blinks twice, her jaw opening ever so slightly. I note that the crowd has heard me as well and has quietened down considerably and that the adult battle-mage has relaxed ever so slightly.

No one says anything for a few seconds and I sigh.

"It's just my luck to be summoned by another strange master. " When nothing comes out of her mouth, I repeat myself, much to my growing annoyance. "I have arrived in accordance to your summons, thus I ask of you: Are you my Master?"

She finally realizes and understands the situation, her scowl coming back with force as she musters her spirit and takes a step forward. My challenge has been answered, it seems.

"Yes...! I-I am Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière! I have summoned you!" This silences the crowd, though not for long.

She stutters a bit at the start, but her resolve seems good. I think I can fight with her in this coming war. I smirk and give an amused huff as I cross my arms.

"Very well, I accept your contract." Now that that's been taken care of, I need to unscrew my head, riffle through my memories and try to get them into some semblence of order and then get my bearings. Counter Guardians never get to have sapience because the way they're constantly deployed really messes with their heads after all.

All that knowledge, spanning hundreds or maybe even thousands of hours of combat from all over time and space, crammed into a teensy tiny human brain. Or a spiritual core based fascimile of one. This is why Classes were created, honestly, it's a pity Counter Guardians weren't really what the designers had in mind and it doesn't quite work properly. So I'm mostly operating on instinct and base manners for now, I'll manage, though.

I must confirm whether or not my _objective_ is achievable right now, first. I have endured too long to miss on my chance if it is. My thoughts are cut short, when I realize the battlemage is approaching us.

For shame, dismissing the spectators as harmless. The war might already be in full swing, for all I know, the silence upon my summoning a mere lull in a terrible battle. I take a step forward toward _my master_ as my eyes remain glued on the battlemage, a sword already in mind for his neck if the need and opportunity rises.

"Miss Valliére, you must finish the contract." He says and I furrow my brows, realizing that the contract isn't complete with a mere confirmation within the current system of summoning. I file that tidbit under miscellaneous information for later consideration and turn to face the young girl now before me.

She realizes I'm staring at her and nearly flinches as she cranes her neck to look at me towering far above her. I realize that I am by far the tallest of everyone in this clearing, even standing a head taller than the only adult; the bald battlemage with the staff foci.

I realize my master is trying to say something, but seems to be struggling with whatever it is. Finally after a few seconds of awkward silence, I venture a guess that she has need of me to be on an equal height with her from the way she her gaze travels up and down and her body language that is screaming "why are you so freakishly tall...!?".

Which amuses me, pleasantly curbing that height complex I'd once had a long time ago.

With that, I kneel easily with one knee to the ground. Not a genuflect of subservience; a Servant I may be, but no one's subordinate will I ever accept myself as ever again. The last time, and only time really, I'd given myself away to be someone else's subordinate was with Alaya. And that had turned out just _so_ well, all things considered. I kneel down with my back straight and my jaw set high, but it is enough for me to come to an equal plane with the young girl before me. We are roughly eye to eye, her pink orbs refusing to look away from my own steel grey ones.

My judgement seems to have been correct, as her expression radiates relief and embarrased consternation at my silent understanding, and I realize how young she must be. I push those thoughts to the back of my mind in lieu of more important things; If she summoned me for this war then she must be mature enough to face the consequences, whatever they may be.

"My name is Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière." She intones raising her foci, an elegant wand. Her eyes are closed and she is standing a single pace away from me. I take the moment to eye around and take stock of our surroundings. "Pentagon of the five elemental powers; bless this humble being, and make him my familiar."

And just as my eyes see the various mythical beasts that had been in my peripheral vision and ignored as a mere part of the crowd, my young master takes that single step that is between us and locks our lips.

And my slight surprise of the mythical beasts is instantly replaced by surprise at the young girls' action.

It is a chaste kiss, a mere touching of lips, but had it been mere years before my death I would have been beet red and muttering about needing more training and telling her that girls need to be more mindful and careful. As it is, I have that training, my physical heart not even skipping a single beat as I calmly process the "finishing touch" of our contract.

I'm about to make a snip at how if she wanted a kiss, she need only have asked, when a burning pain assaults my body. Spreading from my spiritual core to my left hand and finally in what feels like having someone etch into my skin with a burning iron a set of runes, the feeling recedes.

I've burned my insides enough times to not mind such pain and hide the fact of my branding easily enough.

I refuse to react to the pain; refuse to panic to the realization that I have been branded with an unknown magic and merely rise. My forearm guard and long sleeves cover the brand I know now mars the back of my left hand. The battlemage seems to be looking for any signs of my branding, though he hides it well. My master has already stepped back, hiding her displeasure at the close contact contract and avoiding my gaze with an arrogant huff and turn.

"And so, our contract has been sealed."

I am well aware that none of the current circumstances fit with any of the wars or memories I think I have, but I keep my cool and forge on with stoic resolve. As soon as I have time to make sense of my head, I'll plan further ahead.

I meet my masters gaze as she finally masters herself enough to look at me and nod ever so slightly, making her blink in confusion. It would seem she's inexperienced, so for now I'll just quietly play along and go with the flow.

AN:

I've read quite a bit of fanfiction. Certainly more than I've read original fiction. This is one of those stories that I've kind of wanted to see written for ages, yet has never seemed to pop up. Well until now, when I saw that one posted a few hours ago and read it only to remember I'd made my own scribbles for it.

I still remember seeing that one screecapped comic of Louise summoning a certain sarcastic champion of butlers back in 2007 on a certain anime imageboard that shall remain nameless.

I don't really like useless fluff like this, but it feels like it needs to be said, so whatever. I'll try to refrain from having them in other chapters.

This isn't really going to be like Hill of Swords or the half dozen Archer-ko fics that seem to exist, I hope. People tend to see Archer as a slightly cooler Shirou or a complete anathema to whatever they think Shirou is, so I'm hoping to do something a little different here.

Rather than the cuddly-fluffy-hero-of-justice-Shirou, I'm trying to go for more of the PTSD-shellshocked-God-I-hate-myself-True-Neutral-complete-asshole-Archer that we only really got to see glimpses of in UBW. You know, the guy who set up Rin to be nearly raped by Shinji to lure off Saber so he could kill Shirou. Yeah, HIM.

Rather than being surrounded by people he really can't fight against(Rin, Ilya, Sakura. Check his worst enemies column in the CM.) or a innocent and adorable master like in Fate/Extra, I'm putting him in a situation he doesn't understand with a person he doesn't really like.

Expect the TSUNTSUN. It took Hakuno two fucking games to get to the deredere with Archer, Louise is in for a rough ride. I might even try to squeeze it into a romance because of how deliciously awkward it would be.

And damn, this AN is longer than the fucking prologue itself. Damn.

Oh yeah and I totally know there is already a FSN/FoZ fic with this name, but it's so good so I'm using it anyway claiming dibs by the fact that someone had already thought of this fics premise back in 2007 on an unnamed imageboard. Totally a valid claim.


	2. Chapter 2 - Introductions & Tea

I keep on walking, fighting back the urge to look on my familiar.

My Familiar. The realization hits me again and I can't suppress the smile that grows on my face. This time I can't stop myself from looking at him. This strange hawk-eyed man with white hair, clad in red and black.

I swallow nervously and my head swivels back before his eyes meet mine again. His sharp gaze, those gray eyes that seem to pierce straight through me... I shiver once again.

My first instinct had been to complain to Mr. Colbert and to demand for another chance on the summoning ritual, but his voice had frozen me in place before I could even answer to the taunts of my classmates.

"I ask of you, are you my master?"

That absolute certainty that it wasn't a mistake that he was summoned, no botched spell, no failed cantrip, like every other time. A success. A successful summon. I had successfully summoned a familiar!

Of course, some of the others jeered and laughed that he was a mere commoner, but something within me told me that it wasn't that simple. That gaze...

The moment he had opened his eyes, he had understood that he had been summoned and was perfectly at ease with his situation. That strange black armor and red shroud, the way he walked and observed everyone near and far. Every nook and cranny, every door and window, every wall and corridor. Those eyes missed nothing.

It reminded me of my mother, the way he could dismiss people as harmless existences while still keeping his guard up.

And that thought both terrified and pleased me immensely. This wasn't a mere commoner, no way. I have no idea who or what he is, but there is nothing common about him.

We were walking back to my room as we had been dismissed for the rest of the day. New second years were to familiarize themselves with their newly summoned companions, as was tradition. Some of the other students had immediately flown away, but I couldn't do that.

I was just glad that he hadn't asked me about that yet, merely content with following silently at his leisurely pace with his long strides easily keeping up with me, despite my quick steps.

I looked back again at him and our gazes meet again, I swivel back instantly, my face burning shamefully with a blush. I had of course known that a familiar contract was sealed with a kiss, but knowing that and actually kissing an adult man on the lips were two very different things. How shameful...

"Ugh..." A sound escapes my lips, and for a moment I think he might have chuckled behind me, amused by my discomfort. My blush returns in full force, though this time from embarrassment AND anger.

With that, I take a deep breath and collect myself. I am a proud Mage of the Valliére family and I will not let just some common...

I spare another glance at my familiar and note that his sharp gaze is combing our surroundings and never lingering on any one thing for more than a moment. He hasn't relaxed one bit since the summoning despite our growing distance from all the others, though he could hardly be called tense either.

Still, I must act as is expected of a daughter of the Valliére's. I am his Master and I must prove my superiority through discipline and example. We arrive at my room and I enter, not even sparing him a glance as I pass through. I hear the door close behind me and I assume he has followed me inside.

Turning around and sitting on the edge of my bed, my assumption is confirmed as I see him standing there before the door. Back straight, arms crossed, eyes vigilant yet not restless or worried at all. I have to swallow my nervousness and force it down before I speak.

"This is my room." His eyes find me, having searched, analyzed and mentally cataloged the entire room already, as I speak up. "If you have need of a place to rest, that corner is yours to use."

I project every bit of my pride as a Mage and as a Noble as I speak, hoping to resolve any petty complaints before they are even uttered by my familiar. I had prepared a small stack of hay and a wool quilt, suitable for most familiars of above average size the day before and more than adequate for anything small, but now in the face of a human familiar I realize my preparations are woefully lacking. But I cannot allow my lacking preparations reflect badly upon me, so he will simply have to accept it and in the future I may reward him with a cot or even a bed to sleep in.

Not mine, of course. I think with a slight flush. Never my bed. Especially not with me in it.

He eyes the corner for a short moment and I think he might have raised his eyebrow a tiny bit. I cannot be sure as his face turns back to a neutral mask as his eyes meet mine again. Just as I am sure he is about to voice a complaint, his amused tone catches me off guard.

"Understood."

I blink at his unexpected reaction and I know he is hiding a chuckle as he knows he has caught me off guard. I force myself to be calm and close my eyes to take a calming breath. It is not even dinnertime yet, and I already feel the pressure from my familiar's presence. But, I cannot let him be uppity and I must prove our difference in station as Master and Familiar.

Ah, that. I will do that. I am a little bit dirty from my excursion outside, my summoning had kicked up some dust, loathe as I am to admit it, from the explosion. So I shall undress before him and order him to have my clothing cleaned. I'll force him to submit and admit that he is not even a man in my eyes.

"If you have no objections, master, I would like to impose a few questions on you."

His voice breaks me out of my reverie and I almost forget about my plan, and most certainly lose the determination I had just mustered up to undress before him. I blink and I realize my mouth is hanging open a slight bit. How disgraceful, no matter how imposing he may be, I cannot allow myself to act like this!

So with that annoyance, I answer. "What is it? You have questions? Then ask them, I may answer them if I deem it important enough."

* * *

"What is our current objective? Am I to remain on standby for now?"

I ask a neutral enough question. So far nothing has made much sense to me. Their complete lack of secrecy, the lack of seeming conflict, the incredibly low level of technology, the leisurely and almost relaxed atmosphere. It's almost like I haven't even been summoned for a Holy Grail War here.

But I can't ask about those things. If I do, I might reveal just what kind of existence I am. A Heroic Spirit wouldn't suffer from my current confusion, I'm pretty sure. So I have to be roundabout, ask the questions a Heroic Spirit might ask and that will give me the answers I seek.

Unfortunately, I can already say with quite a bit of certainty that my _objective_ does not lay here. For starters, we're most certainly not in Japan. So I'll concentrate on the war for now and see if anything worth noting appears before me. If nothing else, then my wish, perhaps?

My master is another terrible one, I've surmised. Not for lack of ability, really, but due to her attitude. She sees herself as my absolute superior, or at least is trying to impose herself as such. I've never been good at taking orders, so I'd hoped to twist our relationship into a partnership if possible. "Topping from the bottom" is always so stressful, it was easier to just blow off co-operation and work solo once I'd gotten good enough.

No such luck here it would seem, so far.

She honestly expects me to sleep on the floor? Luckily, I don't need to sleep so I can agree to that without complaint. It would do no good for me to begin making trouble this early into our endeavors and risk her using a command spell on me. I think I might have once made such a mistake, but I can't really recall.

"Objective?" Her confusion is not a good sign, have I really been saddled with a master who has no idea of the struggle she faces? Her face scrunches up as she thinks for moment, trying to come to an answer that will most effectively reinforce her superior position as a master rather than admitting she has no idea what I'm asking about. "You have been summoned to serve me and that's that."

So she has no idea or is trying to keep the knowledge of the upcoming fight hidden for me for the time being. Judging by her expression, I would assume the former but I can't be certain. Or I could be completely off base, but I doubt that. Summoning a human, let alone a heroic spirit is ludicrous without special circumstances like a Grail War.

"For now..." She begins, and I can see her visibly mustering up her resolve. This might be good. Or very bad if she's about to use a command spell, I realize. Bracing myself, I meet her gaze. "For now, take these to be washed, familiar."

And she begins to strip. I hide the near slip and the twitch on my face in the instant she's taking off her blouse and cannot see my face. I hadn't expected this, I hadn't even conceived she would try something like this.

"You aren't even a man before me, merely a tool."

I approve, my master isn't half bad, after all. If a bit overbearing with her attitude.

Even though I can see her forcing herself, I must approve of that resolve. Even if I hadn't conceived this avenue of attack, I've trained myself to not care. To blush and sputter like a teenager would be beyond pathetic and I've long since grown past such. I'm not that boy anymore, who would rush to tell her that a girl she shouldn't bare herself before strangers like this.

Without batting an eye, I pick up her blouse and skirt as she's taking off her socks. I fold them and pile them neatly and then meet her gaze, my eyes not straying one bit nor my face betraying my amusement at her power play as she fidgets before me in her underwear.

So there, standing before a near naked teen, I merely ask: "Shall you be bathing as well, master?" She swallows and refuses to fidget before me, rather, answering resolutely.

"No. I will not be bathing before dinner." She nods to herself, possibly to bolster her resolve before me. "Just take those to be washed and... And bring me some tea when you are done."

And with that she turns around to go to her wardrobe. I had half-expected her to demand me to dress her in clean clothes before leaving, but it seems she's not quite as prepared as she had hoped and her determination is wearing thin.

"As you wish." I reply and leave. As I close the door, my sharp ears pick up the sounds of her nearly breaking down in relief and her self-recriminations at nearly breaking. I chuckle and begin walking away. Resolve is all well and good, but a half-assed resolve is more likely to hurt than help you. In that power play she received far more "damage" than I sustained from her attempt to put me down.

Still, I'm acquiescing far too much to her demands. What other Heroic Spirit would accept to menial tasks like these? And her guard is far too low. Making me leave her unattended when a another Servant might use the opportunity to strike?

Whatever, I'll have to make it worth it and trust her judgement in the matter. For now I'll scout around as much as I can and try to get my head cleared. I need more information and I need to start planning.

As I pass the window, I note that the sun is still high and that I still have a long day ahead.

And that thought makes me sigh deeply. I'd much rather just be fighting to the death with something already.

* * *

At least my current task is simple enough, and I've already spotted a servant which will make it far simpler.

A servant being a maid, in this case, rather than a summoned fighter of legendary prowess.

"Excuse me." I speak up, having snuck up behind the maid currently dusting a vase. A bad decision, I reflect as my voice makes her jump up and knock over the thing she had been dusting. Luckily, I catch it rather easily and place it back on the pedestal by the wall with an easy smile.

"Ah-Ah! Yes, what can I do for you?" The maid with black hair and blue eyes responds with nervous gusto, her eyes shooting back and forth between my face and the vase I'd saved and no doubt helped her tremendously with in preventing from being shattered.

"I was wondering if you would be so kind as to help with these." I look down on the neat pile of to-be-washed clothing in my hand. "I've been tasked with their cleaning and I'd be grateful if you could help me find the appropriate facilities."

I give an easy smile to reinforce the fact that I'm absolutely no one suspicious and it seems to help as most of her nervousness melts away. She blinks dumbly a few times before collecting herself.

"Y-yes! I would love to help, I'll take you there myself, mister...?" She puts away her duster and steps up to me with an eager expression and a slight blush.

But it's with that, that I finally realize something that had been eluding me while hovering at the edge of my mind for a while now.

The fact that I had no idea what my class was.

Not letting that setback hinder me, I forge on with a bluff. "Ah, you may call me..." I merely have a few moments to weigh my options, but I finally settle on the least offensive one to my sensibilities. "Archer."

If the current war had a different class system, I might have just given away a vital clue, but honestly I'd much rather not be called by a certain name if I could help it. Though the lack of a blaring status page in my skull giving me a class title seems to indicate that my choice is safe enough.

"Ah, Mister Archer, I see." She smiles and nods, seemingly pleased and radiating with hospitality and kindness. "Please, follow me, I'll be glad to take you there."

She turns to leave and for a moment I think I might have seen her licking her lips, but I can't be sure. She barely takes a step, before she seems to remember something and hastily turns around with an energetic hop with her frilly apron bouncing up and her magnificent assets bouncing almost merrily right before me.

"Ah! Excuse me!" She bows hastily, "It was terribly rude of me to forget to introduce myself! I'm a maid here at the Tristain Academy of Magic and my name is Siesta."

I shake away her apology with a smile and offer my own slight bow. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Siesta." And I mentally thank her for that piece of information she dropped for me. 'Tristain' and 'Academy of Magic'. Those will prove vital, I'm sure, as I've never heard of either before.

"Lead the way." I motion for her to continue and she shakes herself out of whatever stupor she was in and nods with a smile and a healthy blush.

And so she leads me away.

* * *

A mere half hour has passed when my familiar finally returns. I have long since clothed myself and I am seemingly relaxing by the desk, reading a tome on advanced wind magic. The fact that I can't make any use of the theory even though I understand it perfectly is irrelevant, since I am only striving for an image of calm indifference rather than actually reading it.

The polite knock, which I answer instinctively with an "Enter.", not even raising my gaze from the tome, is already enough to make all the tension I thought I had relieved myself off return instantly.

The delicate aroma of tea and freshly baked scones is enough to remove it again, a moment later as he enters. I had resolved myself to ignore my familiar when he returned and to only look up from my book a minute after he had arrived to show him how irrelevant he was to me.

Only, the unexpected addition of bread has cut that line of thought before it even had a chance. Before I can even question him, he speaks "I noted that you'd missed lunch with your extended class due to the summoning, so I thought it proper to bring you something light to eat to last until dinner."

I blink, my gaze finding his gray orbs easily, and my body betraying me just as easily as my mouth waters. I realize I am a slight bit peaked, but refuse to let his initiative unbalance me. "Hmmph, well I suppose I may as well."

He smiles easily, almost indulgently as if I am a mere child or a younger sibling he is spoiling as he sets down the tray by my desk. Strangely enough, he has brought an entire teapot rather a single cup as I had imagined when I had ordered him to bring me a cup of tea.

Of course, I will have to inform him that I will merely be drinking a single cup when I order for tea, rather than an entire potful in the future. Even though a cup cools down quicker than a pot, I would rather not have the entire pot brought into my room. A daughter of the Valliére does not over-indulge, he will simply have to bring it quicker in the future so it remains hot for consumption.

He pours expertly, thought with different etiquette than I have witnessed before. I would chastise him, but to do so before I have even tasted the beverage is poor manners. I suppose I will simply have to throw it in his face when it fails to meet my expectations.

More than that, he has forgotten to bring milk, the utter fool. I nearly sigh aloud, already preparing myself for what is to come; I have long despised tea without milk or cream despite Eleonore's chastisements.

But before I can even think of how to properly chastise him he pulls a wickedly gleaming knife from a fold in is waistcloak and slices a strange yellow fruit, confidently places it in the tea cup without a single moment of hesitation.

My eyes must have boggled at this faux pas, from not even asking how I preferred my drink to that floating yellow thing...!

And he steps back, having placed the teacup before me along with a scone next to it with a small butter dish.

I will taste this monstrosity, if only for manners' sake before scalding his face with it. My hands easily find the tea cup and I take the smallest sip imaginable, staring at the yellow thing floating in my cup indignantly.

Preparing myself, I sip.

And I freeze, facing a truly vexing conundrum.

It is good. No.

It is- No, this is good tea. Very Good Tea.

No sugar, no milk, black as it comes and a strange yellow fruit slice floating in it, taunting me with its refreshing flavor and delicious aroma.

_Damn it_, I hate black tea and _never_ touch a hot beverage without milk and sugar, not even Sis Cattleya has managed to make me like tea without sugar at the very least. _What is this!_

And worst of all, my familiar is leering at me smugly, knowing he has utterly bested me. He's long since broken off from any proper servant protocol by lounging against a wall with his arms casually crossed. He's mocking me in his perfection.

_Damn him._ I curse as I begin pouring my third cup. Pouring it _myself_, I note even more bitterly.

* * *

I chuckle to myself, watching as my master stews in her utter loathing, staring at her cup with vehemence I'd not expect worthy of a mere cup of tea.

Honestly, the servants here have no idea what proper tea is. And this master had nothing on the utter tea snob that one Tohsaka Rin would become during her stay in London. Had she been here, heads would have been rolling over the reliance on sugar and cream of all things. Luckily I'd managed to pinch half a lemon along with the scones that had been made for the servants, making up for the somewhat bellow average beverage. Made from poorer flour, yet with more love, it was certainly good enough for the young noble I'd concluded. I'd have to have words with the cooking staff and see if I could swindle the recipe from them at some point.

Of course, my old friend would flog me for my unacceptable breaks from proper butler behavior in not switching out the lemon slices for every new cup, among other things so perhaps it was better that Tohsaka Rin was not present.

My reconnaissance run with the maid, Siesta, was a fairly decent success. I managed to extract a great deal of information that I would need to process and reflect on. My initial treks around the premise had given me a basic understanding of the Academy of Magic already, but I would be hard pressed to develop any tactics of any use with what I knew so far.

I'd have to make a second roundabout run when retrieving the washed clothing for a more complete picture later. Perhaps an in-depth exploration when everyone went to sleep? Or would the two of them be plotting and patrolling around looking for other Masters?

"Was the tea satisfactory, master?"

She scowls, masters her expression and then blandly replies "It was. Though for the future, note that I prefer milk and sugar over..."

Noticing her unfamiliarity with the sliced fruit in her cup, I interject "Of course, I merely find that a slice of lemon adds a refreshing touch suitable for drinking with a light snack."

I see that she's processing the "lemon" and mulling it over silently, probably for future reference. So far my master hasn't been too bad, but I get the feeling our easy relationship won't last for long. From what I gathered from the maid, Siesta, the local population is divided into two distinct castes. The nobles, consisting of mages and occasionally the exceedingly wealthy and influential non-mage, and the Commoners.

The Commoners in this case being the archetypal western feudal medieval-era society and the Mages being something straight out of fantasy literature. The sort of opposite ends of realism and cliche that leaves a strange aftertaste.

What I had assumed to be nothing of consequence, jeers of "Louise summoned a Commoner!", suddenly had become a very alarming issue.

What I had assumed was a young Master doing her best to not be overshadowed by her Heroic Spirit Servant had suddenly become an elitist mage oppressing a second-class citizen whom she thought she had bound into slavery. I wasn't so sure if I approved of the steel in my Master anymore.

Still, it was far too early to dismiss her. While the possibility of this being a fluke rather than a Grail War wasn't out of the question, it was still not worth pondering over. It was far more likely that I had merely been summoned by an inexperienced Master who simply didn't know of the circumstances, rather than than a mere mage having been able to summon me from the Throne of Heroes and bind me to a spiritual core by her lonesome. That was just preposterous.

Not to mention supporting my existence with prana. I hadn't attempted to analyze my physical body or my spiritual core in too much depth yet, but it was hardly a half-assed vessel that would break down regardless of the supply of magical energy. This was a proper summoning.

Lesser Grails could potentially handle the strain of having a Servant without a Greater Grail around, but those were magi who had been specifically altered to be able to do that. A regular mage having that kind of power was highly unlikely, even Rin's incredible reserves would been left severely depleted.

Yet here she was, my master, looking none the worse for wear with having me around. There had to be a support system like a Greater Grail in place.

"Are you even listening?!"

"...Huh?" Damn, I thought I'd gotten more eloquent with age. I blame Alaya, I haven't had a chance to converse with others in a while after all. I clear my throat and pretend I had something stuck there.

"I asked you a question, familiar, are you deaf or merely too dumb to understand?" Her left eye is twitching, I had her pecked for a firecracker. Better not push my luck yet.

"Oh, apologies master. Do go on."

She huffs but luckily and a bit strangely seems to accept my apology easily enough. I'd have thought she would press it, but judging from how much slack she was already giving me from the moment I'd stopped relying on the "butler" training Rin had given me it was possible she isn't going to be pushing or punishing me at all.

"So, as I already asked once, what is your name?" She asks, with elegance and superiority only a noble mage could produce. She'd fit right in with the upper class of the Tower.

"Archer."

She pauses, her brows furrowing for a moment of surprise. Does she know of the Grail War, after all? "Though I am able to perform as a close range knight-class satisfactorily as well." I venture, observing her reaction closely.

She blinks, her face relaxing completely in confusion as she stares at me. Her thoughts are open and right on her face, and I seriously doubt she could lie convincingly enough to fool me.

I sigh. "Never mind, master." She blinks, even more confused at my dismissal of the topic before frowning.

"Is that a title or a... pseudonym of some form?"

"Something like that, yes." I answer her inquiry with an easy shrug, hoping she will drop the matter. She seems to accept my unwillingness to elaborate as she frowns and continues to sit in silence.

She looks up to me and bites her lip in a subconscious nervous gesture, her eyes shooting back down the moment they meet mine, before defiantly shooting back up in a refusal to be or appear meek. She nearly bites her lip as her firm gaze meets mine again.

"So I assume you are a soldier or warrior of some kind, then." I blink and realize that despite her seemingly sheltered life here at the Academy as a noble, she's neither dumb nor unobservant.

Despite my lack of obvious weaponry and my strange light armor, she has noticed either my experience or my physique enough to make such an assumption.

"I haven't served in any military, no. But you are right that I'm a experienced fighter, of sorts."

"You're a sellsword?!" Her scandalized reply surprises me, though I realize it probably shouldn't. Nobles in my past generally became such through martial skills and loyalty to a ruler. Both western knights and samurai of my home country both fit into this class of Noble, having been rewarded for their service to a king or lord with land and servants in a feudal society. It's probable that most if not all military forces in this nation consist of mages, seeing as how normal fighters wouldn't be of much use other than grunts or cannon fodder.

Speaking of which, I need to find out at which stage technology exists presently. Assuming gunpowder hasn't been invented yet, the term cannon fodder probably doesn't exist. Spell fodder, then?

Never mind, my thoughts are getting off track.

"No. I've never worked as a mercenary or a 'soldier of fortune'. I have worked as a bodyguard a few times."

This calms her down considerably. Mercs and brigands are probably not looked on too favorably here, then. Those who work for the highest bidder, regardless of nationality or lord are the natural enemies of nobles who pride on their loyalty, after all.

"I've mostly worked as a peacekeeper and a...bounty hunter." I continue, hoping to ease her into trusting my experience. This wouldn't be necessary if she understood that she had summoned a Servant, but given that she doesn't assume I am a Heroic Spirit, it's probably for the best that I give her something to think about.

"Peacekeeper? Bounty Hunter?"

Unfamiliar terms, then. It's possible neither exists as a common practice or that national military forces and sellswords do both on a as-needed basis.

"Yes. Protecting civilians and hunting down dangerous criminals or beasts. That kind of stuff."

This seems to soothe her, knowing that she hadn't summoned a common bandit or cutthroat. Though she still eyes me critically, noting my garb and gear with curious eyes.

"So you're a... hunter? Of some kind? But... You don't look like you spend a lot of time outside settlements and cities. You lack any kind of apparel or gear one would expect from a woodsman."

"Ah, no. I'm not a hunter, no. Generally, I've operated within urban settlements though I can track and survive in most climates with some level of proficiency."

My confidence and calm satisfies her and she even lets herself smile a little. Then she frowns and eyes me critically once again.

"But, you're not a..." She licks her lips nervously, obviously deep in thought and trying to phrase her question. "You are not a knight, nor do you have any kind of honorary title as a noble...?"

Her question seems to be aimed at making me answer a question she didn't actually ask aloud, I blink and mull it over for a second. It's probably that she's trying to confirm whether or not I am a Mage, though in the context of a 'Noble' rather than in the context of 'one able to use magic of some kind'.

"No." My simple answer has a visible effect on her as she nearly deflates, relaxing from her strung up stance in relief. "I'm part of no nobility nor have I ever been bequeath with a title, to my knowledge. 'Archer' is more of a... description than a title. I suppose."

"Then, what is your name?"

Ah, damn. Damn, damn damn.

I could tell her.

No. Just tell her the truth, then, and let her make her own conclusions.

"I've forsaken my name."

She's frozen up. Oh, I seem to have said that with a bit more emotion leaking out than I'd meant to.

"O-oh. I- yes. I understand, Archer." She hastily agrees, reaching for her teacup, flinching when her slight tremble is easily noticeable from the sound of her cup rattling against her cup plate for a second.

"I apologize master, I did not mean to snap like that." Damn. She nearly flinched again at the sound of my voice. I need to distract her. Calm her down. Rather have her act superior than be afraid and actually use any of her superiority, like a command spell. Remind her of her magic; "And yourself, then? I assume you are an accomplished Mage."

And she's gone completely still and white.

"T-that is..." She swallows and musters herself, "I am the Third daughter of the Valliére family, foremost among the Nobles in Tristain and famous for their martial prowess! And... And..." Her answer is obviously one she's used often and comes out almost reflexively as a response.

She seems to desperately try and find something positive to say about herself.

And suddenly it all clicks.

Her controlled exterior appearance and spotless adherence to noble manners, her attempts at gaining control over the conversations whenever possible and presenting herself as the superior, her excitement over my experience as a fighter and most importantly her title among her peers that I'd heard spoken after the summoning; "Louise the Zero."

She flinches. Though not out of fright this time.

Ah, I hadn't meant to say that out loud.

So she's not only a novice, near useless master, she's also a novice, near useless mage.

How... appropriate, given my own past as a magus and as a master.

"I hate my Luck rating."

* * *

To those who'd commented on Archer falling in love with Louise: Yeah, I don't really see it happening either without some serious groundwork. But hey, that's what conniving overly controlling mothers and love potions are for, right?


	3. Chapter 3 - Time out

"Luck... Rating?"

"It's... It's nothing." He says, pinching his nose, clearly fighting back a headache.

I hold back the scathing reply on the tip of my tongue and swallow it down along with the last of my tea.

Now he knows. He knows.

I cannot allow him to... Usurp control, I am the Master, he is the Familiar! Even if I am less than... Even if I am below average in magical ability. I will not allow him to think himself above me.

_Zero_

The word echoes through my head and I set down my cup with more force than I had intended, the unpleasant sound of china striking on china snapping my familiar out of his thoughts.

He looks at me, with renewed interest and an intensity I had not seen before from him. It instantly reminds me of the first moment we laid eyes upon each other and I swallow nervously before fighting down the instinct to fidget in place, as I straighten my back and raise my jaw in defiance.

He is weighing me again, now that he knows how _pathetic_ I am. I throw back all the loathing and scorn I have suffered at him through our locked eyes. I cannot allow him to disrespect me. I will not allow this to slip away like everything else.

I won't be a failure. I won't be a _Zero_.

His stance changes, his shoulders relax the tiniest bit and his weight settles back against the wall in a minute way that few could even notice. And fewer still would understand the meaning of. He moves just like mother does sometimes.

"Well, It's alright even if you aren't the most talented weaver of wonders. I can manage." He says, his tone easy and friendly, clearly what is supposed to be a joke to lighten the mood. But that's not what it is.

A dismissal. In all but tone. No, hidden behind the friendly tone.

He is dismissing me and my ability, my worth, 'You don't need to be able to do anything, I am good enough to handle whatever failures you cause.'. My own familiar is dis-

Of course he would. My gaze falls down to the floor as I laugh silently and accidentally, I note bitterly. It is not a particularly nice sound, quiet and raspy. Like the sound of china on china, uncomfortable on the ears. Why wouldn't my proud and skilled familiar be disappointed with a pathetic and talentless master like me?

My classmates, those whom I should connect with and learn alongside with. Among whom I should make friends and alliances, have long since seen me and found me worthless. My family, whom I have tried and tried to please for as hard and long as I can remember have long since deemed me only worthy of marrying off for political capital.

Why would this stranger be any different, then? Even if he was My Familiar.

"I'm..." I begin, our eyes meeting again. He knows, he knows what I am thinking, even though his face is blank. "I am going to study until dinner is served. Leave me."

A dismissal, only my tone of voice is cold and biting.

* * *

Well, that could have gone better. A lot better.

I'm not even really sure what happened there, but I do know she's beyond talking to at the moment. I sigh as the door closes behind me with a soft thud and click. A most troublesome and terrible master I have, indeed.

I take a deep breath through my nose and try to place everything around me as I push back and ignore the jumbled thoughts regarding my master for a moment.

My closed eyes open as my magical detection is going haywire and is beginning to nearly give me a headache.

This place is like the bowels of Rin's research workshop, the third or fourth one that she let me into anyway, overflowing ambient magic and energy. I can locate my master with some effort, but anything else would take too much time to be worth it. Trying to rely on that sense for any fighting inside the building simply wouldn't work either, like trying to look into a spotlight and trying to see what was behind it. If in the future I have to fight inside then I'd best remember to watch out for it.

These mages really like throwing around absurd amounts of magical energy, don't they? It really didn't bode well for any future conflicts; if they could throw around this kind of power into boundary fields in a dormitory it would be interesting to see what they could do in a fight.

So I'll have to do it the old fashioned way. My nose already cleared the area of anything interesting, but I'll need to sweep the rest of the Academy before I can take it easy. I have a fair idea of all the beasties among my master's peers, but it wouldn't do to be complacent. I would have to identify and analyze the other _familiars_ at some point and won't that be interesting.

I think I saw a dragon among them, for starters. But, first things first. To analyze the surroundings of my 'home base'. Or really, just make sure that my master's quarters were safe.

I place my hand on the wall and take a breath through my mouth before intoning my oldest incantation.

"Trace On."

And the wire-frame model of the building becomes clear in my mind's eye as a minuscule pulse of prana shoots out from the point of contact and spreads outward like a wave. A perfect three-dimensional blueprint, with details and information on things most people didn't even think to wonder about, pops into my head. I dismiss all the irrelevant information, like the thickness and condition of each wall, floor, ceiling and window down to a ridiculously tiny number and how easily they could be broken or sabotaged or how to most easily bring down a load bearing wall or how to cause a wall to crumble down for an entry point with minimal force. I really don't need any of that right now, as I'm merely familiarizing myself with the area. A mere half a second has passed and I already know of three spots in need of structural repairs to keep walls from crumbling in the future decade to come.

I've spent enough time fighting in and outside buildings, in cities of all kinds both old and modern, so my abilities in analyzing these things are quite fast and reliable. I don't know how many times I've barely survived simply because I had a decent floor-plan when fighting inside a building.

A useless skill, my ass, thanks a bunch, old man.

I've also determined that my master's bedroom is safe enough and not being monitored through any of the three dozen ways I am aware of, both thaumaturgical and technological means not native to this place. I really don't know if any local spying spells work anything like the ones I've experienced, but I have to work with what I've got and the assumption that some of the key concepts would be enough for me to identify them. This doesn't dismiss the possibility of living eyes and ears, like familiars, but I trust my nose enough to ignore that for moment.

My master is alone and safe.

"Good enough, I suppose."

Dropping my hand from the wall, I turn around to look at the maid about to come around the corner at the end of the hallway. Her footsteps echo lightly, the weight of her steps against the stone floor that I could sense through my Structural Analysis not moments before and the soft smell of her soap.

She's quite easy to notice, despite her attempts at what could be called 'sneaking'.

She comes around the corner, her head turned back to watch the way she came from for any followers, her hands raised up for balance. She looks like a thief or a burglar straight out of a cartoon, the very picture of suspicious activity. I chuckle to myself, not moving an inch as I continue to watch her with crossed arms and tilted head.

She turns around, her expression victorious and jubilant, having succeeded in sneaking all this way successfully despite her conspicuous behavior. For what reason she would be trying to sneak, I can't even begin to guess. Her eyes fall on me as she continues walking, her expression freezing for an instant as her eyes widen in recognition.

But rather than the moment of panic, a moment of realization of having been caught, of trying to act like she wasn't doing something strange and of pretending that she is supposed to be here, her eyes light up with joy. Her entire posture rights itself and before I can even voice an amused greeting she's abandoned any pretense of stealth and bounced all the way over to me.

"Mister Archer!"

I blink and shake off my surprise.

"Siesta, we meet again." I greet her, hiding a chuckle with a smile.

"Yes!" She nods vigorously, her radiant smile nearly blinding. I begin to realize that this girl might actually be very dangerous. As her nodding stops, she stands up straight with her hands by her side in a strange parody of a military at-attention stance.

Very, very dangerous, I note as my eyes almost instinctively seek out her bouncing ballistics.

"Mister Archer, I was thinking earlier, that is if it isn't a problem with you or..." She licks her lips, her cheerful gusto suddenly replaced with a strange bashfulness and a shy glance. "That is, since we've already had a tour around the service facilities earlier, if you would... Would like to have a tour of the rest of the Academy? W-With me that is!"

I blink. Terrifyingly dangerous.

"Of course, I would love to." But easily riposted and dealt with an easy smile. _Deflect and don't let her corner me_, that's my general modus operandi when it comes to women. The fact that I need such a modus operandi for women I blame Rin. And Illya. And Taiga. And Luvia- Actually, all women I've ever known that are not Sakura or Saber, really.

She nearly has a meltdown right then and there, gushing with joy. I use her moment of giddiness to take another look around and a tentative prod for any magical sources with my magical detection.

I'm pretty sure we're alone, my master not withstanding, so it's unlikely that Siesta is being used. Though the possibility of her being a spy or unknowing pawn is always there, I'll never forget about Munich and the...

Damn. I just had it at the tip of my tongue, what happened in Munich? When was I in Munich?

I shake my head, ignoring the beginnings of a different kind of headache and turn my attention back to Siesta.

"Shall we go, then?"

And she freezes in place, in hesitation. I realize then that she's probably skiving off of her duties to come ask me and that any more dallying wouldn't be good for her. Yet she's still strangely enough torn between staying and going.

"N-now? I had hoped we could do it later, after dinner if possible..."

I seem to have thrown a curve ball at her with wanting to do it immediately. I realize that servants don't have very flexible schedules and she's already taking a risk with having snuck off to ask me at all. Maybe I should just refuse and explore on my own, though her knowledge would probably prove in handy. I still find it strange that she's come all the way back here to ask me.

Definitely suspicious.

"Unfortunately," I begin, my rejection already deflating her, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "my master seems to have plans for after dinner so I can't make any promises. I've only been dismissed for the time-being until then."

"And I really must be back in the kitchens soon, Marteau would have my head if I'm late..." She hesitates, looking back and forth between me and the way she came.

"The kitchens?" I ask curiously, my interest piqued.

"Yes. Marteau, the head chef, has to begin with the preparations for dinner soon and I'm usually on duty..." She explains, clearly still hesitant to go despite knowing that she must. "Oh...! If only I had asked Tina to cover for me..."

I ignore her silent complaint as it clearly wasn't for me to hear and look out the window. It's still hours away from what I would consider dinnertime, so I find it a bit strange that they're beginning so earl-

Of course.

The servants are all commoners.

They don't have technology or magic.

Making food for an entire Academy, from students to faculty to the servants themselves, without electrify, instant heating and ready made packages of raw food, would take ages.

They would need to light fires, boil water, prepare the foodstuffs for cooking.

Lots and lots of work, lots and lots of time needed.

Strangely enough, I found myself extremely tempted to- Oh to hell with it.

"I would love to help."

"Huh?" My voice, tinted with unrestrained eagerness, shakes her out of whatever internal dilemma she had been struggling with. "Oh. Oh, no! I couldn't ask that of you, when you've just been given time for yourself! I simply couldn't-"

"I haven't had a chance to cook in _ages_." And isn't that an understatement. Strange, I didn't think I would be this tempted. Still, it would be a great chance to integrate myself with the servants and listen in on all the rumors. The servants know everything. Always. I'm doing this for the tactical advantage, not because I want to cook.

"I-" She begins, licks her lips nervously and looks back for a moment before reaching a resolution. "Alright, but Mister Archer, you MUST not get in the head chef's way! You simply mustn't!"

I smile, a strange satisfaction at having my way leaking through, and gesture toward the hallway she'd come sneaking from.

"Of course not, he won't even notice I'm there."

* * *

"GET OUT!" I lift my hands in a placating manner and open my mouth to say something, "No, GET OUT OF MY KITCHEN! I will not have an... an usurper in my own Kitchen! You will never come back here, you hear me! OUT! OUT!"

I eye the raised meat cleaver in his hands and note that he really does know how to flay a man with it, my internal world recording it greedily and giving me knowledge of how strong and skilled he is with it in what could only be described as obsessive awe, and so with slow and deliberate movements I set down the wooden spoon on the table next to the remains of the raw foodstuff used in today's dinner.

"Of course."

I'm ushered out of the kitchen by a flushing Siesta, accompanied by a cacophony of swearing and yelling and what must he a soup laddle being thrown at a wall.

The moment we're outside the kitchen I turn around to face the maid whose been pushing me fervently out, her face having now gone as pale as a sheet. "Well that was interesting."

"MISTER ARCHER-!"

She snaps before slapping her hands over her mouth, stopping herself before she can continue with her tirade. I raise an amused eyebrow at her to which she responds by hitting me. I barely even notice it through my armor and superhuman resilience.

And really, it's not my fault that the head chef and Siesta were the only ones with any real skill. I may have gone a little overboard, but it was hardly worth that scene back there. I open my mouth, a fairly good excuse on the tip of my tongue-

"How could you." She shushes at me, clearly still scandalized despite having happily been following my instructions not more than five minutes earlier. "You promised not to bother Marteau if I let you into the kitchens to help, and then, and then..."

I chuckle at her. She hits me again, which only serves to amuse me even more.

"You're terrible! Mister Archer, how could you! You took over the entire kitchen! I meant for you to help me, not for you to reign over the kitchen like some... some invading warlord!"

Archer the Terrible, Conqueror of Kitchens.

I kind of like it.

She hits me a third time. I must have been smirking.

"And stop smiling like that." She chastises me halfheartedly, the beginnings of a smile blooming on her face.

"Sorry, I really couldn't help it, I enjoyed myself."

She sighs and straightens her apron with a smile.

"Well, what is done is done." She nods to herself, trying to convince herself she wasn't as much to blame for what happened as I was in the hostile takeover. "It's nearing dinnertime, you should get back to Miss Valliére, Mister Archer."

She turns around and opens the kitchen door again, the sounds of dozens of workers busily finishing their creations and the delicious smells in the air coming through the opened portal. "For what it's worth, I enjoyed myself as well, even though you are terrible, Mister Archer."

She gives me a winning smile and then closes the door behind her.

I take a deep breath and turn around, shaking my head.

Despite having done this for purely _tactical reasons_, having listened in to all the chatter and rumors among the servants, I really can't deny that I enjoyed myself. I shake my head again, clearing myself of those thoughts.

I don't have time for cooking and housework, I have more important things to worry about.

A lot of the rumors I'd heard were outright absurd, but I feel that I still learned a lot of the society and people living in it again. Mostly they spoke of local students and happenings, like a mage thief terrorizing the rich nobles, how the Germanian harlot was kicked out of her country and how she was devouring men by the dozen since returning to her second year at the Academy...

Okay, most of it was pretty inane and worthless. But still, some of the stuff I overheard was worth the trouble.

I had thought that the Academy was called Tristain previously, but it turned out that it was the country itself. The Academy was merely that, the Academy of Magic. A rather well known and prestigious school for the young mage, both rich in history and knowledge to be taught, located in the country of Tristain. A pretty basic mistake, but no harm no foul.

The lack of geographical knowledge in my summoning really was beginning to annoy me. I would have to acquire a decent map before I could plan ahead.

Of course, a lot of the rumors were outright absurd as well; an exiled member of the royal family of a neighboring country was supposedly hiding at the academy, either as the new secretary of the headmaster Osmond or as a student depending on who you asked. Supposedly, Colbert was hiding a dark and troubled past as well, if the older servants were to be believed. It wasn't unlikely that he'd been a soldier, given how experienced and aware the man had seemed earlier, but it was unlikely to be as glamorous as the womenfolk gushed.

They just wanted their tall, dark and handsome professor to gush over, I reckoned.

But one thing had become exceedingly clear to me.

Human familiars did not exist.

Oh, _I_ existed, but there was no way I could possibly be a familiar, according to the servants who whispered when they thought I couldn't hear them at the other side of the kitchen or around the corners, while sneaking glances at me.

They had served at the Academy for years, decades even, having witnessed thousands of summonings and thousands of nobles in and outside the academy over the courses of their lives.

No one had a human familiar before. No one. The whole thing smelled of a fresh Grail War to me, for better or for worse. Perhaps someone had tweaked the ritual to accommodate for a Servant and Louise had accidentally managed to tap into it or been chosen?

I walk briskly, turning another corner, navigating the hallways of the Academy with ease despite only having been here for hours, the blueprint in my head guiding me. Still contemplating all that I had heard and trying to sift between the absurd and the strange for nuggets of real knowledge, I nearly missed the presence ahead.

Hiding behind a corner, leaning against it, clearly in wait for me was a mage.

A mage of some power, his well of magic deep and strong, from what I could sense. Magical Detection was skin deep when it came to people, you could tell if someone was healthy and strong or if they were dying and on their last breath, but judging more than that wasn't very easy or reliable.

You couldn't tell a Grand from an Apprentice unless they were casting a spell, in most cases anyway.

The person ahead was a mage and they were fairly strong, was all I could thus surmise.

Not seeing any way to avoid the hallway without taking a detour and backtracking, I continue walking without breaking pace. I could just turn around and leave, but if this was someone smart enough and an enemy, they might be able to reason that I could detect them or they would simply try again later. Much rather face them here alone and when I knew they were there than at a later more inconvenient time.

The heads up might be the only thing that would save me here, who knows. He who dares, wins.

I was never victorious by being stronger. I never made it out alive and in one piece because I could do something nobody else could. Usually it was a lot of luck that got me through a mess, but I like to think I just got good enough at thinking ahead with the years.

Sure, I could make swords and blow things up, but nearly any magi worth their salt could do roughly the same with some effort. The only advantage I usually had was in ease of use and application.

My magical detection was reasonably sharp, but not enough to be special among the more experienced magi. My nose saved my hide half a dozen times, but it wasn't anything truly unique. Most magi could replicate it with formalcraft and some time. It was just handy and always available to me.

What I'd learned, was that to win, I had to cheat. Cheat, lie, misguide, pretend to be weaker than I was at times, bluff that I was stronger than at others.

The local mages couldn't detect magic, or the younger ones couldn't at least, and I wasn't about to inform them that I could just because I thought I was about to be ambushed. Appear weak when I was strong and turn the trap on them, to put it simply.

So I forge on ahead, casually breathing through my nose and confirming that he was human and alone. I'd have smelled a dangerous familiar by now and he hadn't lain any curses from what I could tell, either.

And as I neared the corner, the mage backs away if I judge shuffling of cloth and light tapping of shoes on stone, intending to leave before I reach the corner and see him. Just a scout?

Only for the mage to turn around and then launch into a run back toward the corner I was coming to. The timing just right to meet me just as I would come to the turn.

No intentions of stealth, a head on ambush then.

I steel myself and select my swords, my arms already prepared to defend against any attack in an instant. But I shouldn't strike him down instantly, it wouldn't be a clean job nor would the death of someone be missed at an Academy. Assuming they were from the Academy, anyhow.

So I would have to identify the target and then make an informed decision in an instant. Or perhaps knock them out and take them to a better location for interrogation. Nothing I couldn't handle.

For now, defense and unarmed non-lethal offense if necessary.

And with that I come to the turn of the hallway, turning on my heel and steeling myself with the mental trigger ready to hammer down a bloody death, and my eyes come to see my ambusher.

It wasn't a he after all, I noted. Not with breasts like that.

"Oh-!" She says, as if surprised to see me.

And with acting that without my foreknowledge of her planned ambush would have probably fooled me completely, a busty redhead proceeds to run straight into me with a panicked expression.

From the way her weight slams into me, I suspect she was planning on toppling me over and landing on top of me, too.

For a moment I wonder whether I am living in some anime and living out a cliché, but the lack of a toast and 'I'm late for school...!' shatters that notion on my part of that.

Her reckless charge at me, what I now realized was obviously supposed to be a student in a hurry not realizing that I would come around the corner, so she could crash into me, failed to account for the fact that I was more than a full head taller and built quite a bit more heavily.

The fact that I was a supernatural spirit far superior to humans, physically at the very least, might have helped a bit as well.

So her full frontal charge, with all her weight thrown in at her shoulder, comes to an abrupt stop right into my chest. The impact barely even registering as she 'oomph's, clearly not having expected such resistance.

"Oh..." Clearly dazed, surprised and off balance, her hands come up to support her against me.

Eyeing her closely, noticing her lack of riffling through my pockets or any other usual trickery that a spy might attempt in the confusion of the crash, I surmise that the intent of her attempt at running me over was an introduction. Or she's knocked her head and too dazed for any fancy sleights of hand.

She's a strange girl, too. Her appearance is quite exotic, with dark skin, golden eyes and flaming hair, all in all she's quite attractive. Not to mention her killer figure wrapped in a half-buttoned blouse and criminally short skirt.

"Are you alright?" I support her with my hand and help her steady herself away from me. She doesn't answer me, her hand running over my chest armor while her face is flush and her pupils wide.

A seduction ploy...?

When no answers are forthcoming, I take a step back, letting her stand on her own. Her eyes widen for a moment and her gaze shoots up from my torso to meet my eyes. She blinks and her mouth hangs open for a moment.

"It would seem I've knocked all sense out of you. I'll have to remember I can do that in the future and be more careful."

She blinks, then her eyes regain a sharpness and I can visibly note her regaining control over herself. She clears her throat, dusts herself and straightens her blouse and skirt as a means to break eye contact momentarily. I also notice that by doing this she's 'accidentally' popped open another of the top buttons on her blouse revealing even more of her rather impressive cleavage.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you." Her eyes gleam and she smiles at me and in a manner that she must have practiced for hours, puffing her chest out in a way that seems completely natural from her tight blouse. A seductress, this one.

Double D Dangerous. Terrific.

"You really should be careful, who knows what could have happened. It would have been terrible if you'd fallen and hurt yourself there." This song and dance I haven't played in a while. I hope I'm not too rusty. I hope the lyrics are the same as back home, this one should be pretty obvious.

"Then it's quite lucky that _you_ were here to catch me." She gives me sultry smile and I have to hold back a chuckle that she's going for the line of conversation I'd aimed for. She's almost beautiful beyond mere words, but I'm hardly a man easily tempted. The fact that she's a second year here at the Academy only cinches it.

"Indeed I am." I raise an eyebrow and the corner of my mouth curls into a small smirk. I haven't flirted in years and I was never any good at it, and that's not even counting for my... present condition and lack of social interaction, so it's quite unlikely that I'll manage this to any successful degree.

She giggles, hiding her mouth with the back of her hand, then stares at me through her flaming red locks as she extends her hand in an elegant manner I hadn't expected of someone so seemingly passionate and flirty. Then again, she is a noble so she must be quite used to a higher standard of manners than I am.

For a moment I nearly reach for the hand with the intention of a handshake, but I realize that I have absolutely no idea of the local customs. So, judging by the way she's holding her hand out, I gamble on what little I know of western nobility and I grasp her fingers lightly. Then, with a slight bow raise her hand as I crane down while bringing her hand toward me.

I kiss the back of her hand, lightly, not lingering a moment longer than I should nor hastily drawing myself away from her.

I entertain the idea that she might have construed this entire set up for this moment and have poisoned the surface of her hand, but dismiss that thought a moment before my lips touch her knuckles. If nothing else, I'm quite sure most poisons won't even work on me.

This sort of greeting rarely happened in my time, much less among magi, and when it did one _didn't_ kiss the hand despite the contradictory manner of the gesture. But judging by her flirty nature I guessed it would be an acceptable break in decorum. A welcome one, even. Or maybe they did kiss the hand here, successful gamble was still a success judging by her smile.

"Archer." I speak, my eyes having only left hers for the instant I kissed her hand and returning instantly to hers. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

The way the corners of her lips curl up, I know I'm doing quite well so far. If she thought I was pitifully lacking in manners, her expression would have minute differences here and there. Illya used to try and make me more 'presentable' sometimes, so I'm pretty good at noticing these things.

"Kirche Augusta Frederica von Anhalt-Zerbst." Her melodic voice inches closer and she twirls around, using the hand I'm holding her's with and gracefully twirls under it so I'm half-hugging her with my one arm. She leans her shoulder into my chest as I merely raise an amused eyebrow at her, our hands still entwined. "But you can just call me Kirche the Ardent."

I smirk and hum at that to signify my amusement at her antics, followed by a half-shrug as I tilt my head to peer into her eyes.

"Some have taken to calling me Archer the Terrible, but I personally don't really take to that name." I hope to fluff out the conversation with meaningless talk, rather than simply let her attempt to steer the conversation completely through with the force of her personality.

Because I doubt she's here just to flirt.

Though it seems I've said something I probably shouldn't have, as I recognize a flash of insight followed by rapid conclusions happening inside that pretty little head, even as she leans into me, pushing her Dangerous Assets against me.

But at least I know I was right, she is here to fish me for information. Whether she's merely curious or whether she has an agenda I can't guess yet.

"Oh, and what could you have possibly _done_ to earn such a moniker, hmm?" Her eyes dive into mine and were I any lesser man, would have instantly made the rest of the world vanish from around me.

She's good. Making me relax and maybe let something slip, that's what she's aiming for.

I laugh easily and lightly, closing my eyes and looking away, as if deep in a memory from faraway times before turning back to look into her golden eyes. For a moment the specific color of her amber eyes reminds me of myself from a long time ago, and some real emotion leaks into my act.

I clamp down the memories and banish them with fire and discipline.

I shake my head and our eyes meet again as I inch closer. My mouth opens and hers follows in turn as she licks her lips, as I can see the need to know, the _need_ to hear what I'm about to say burn in her eyes with passion. She thinks she's got me hook, line and sinker.

"It's a secret." I whisper and pull back the inches I'd advanced toward her, leaving her to stare at me in surprise that I'd broken the moment between us. I give her a smirk and lean back away from her, though not truly putting any distance between us.

She blinks while her mouth hangs open for a second. Then she shakes her head and laughs silently, recollecting herself.

"Oh, don't tell me then. But I will find out, sooner or later." She gazes at me through half-closed eyes and with a playful smile as one of her fingers is drawing circles on my chest. She shakes her head again and pulls away from me, her hand lingering entwined with mine right until she's away from me before finally letting go. I'm quite certain she was trying to have me pull her back or something like that, but I really don't see any reason to do so.

If she's disappointed that I don't pull her back, she doesn't show it.

"It was nice meeting you, perhaps we'll meet again, Archer..." She smiles coyly, purring my name in a way I'm not quite sure is legal while outside of a bedroom and clothed, before twirling on her heel and walking away, making sure to put an extra effort into sashaying her hips as she does.

I shake my head and leave the corner, continuing on my way as I make a mental checklist of my things and follow through with a quick Structural Analysis to make sure she didn't put or take anything from me or use some sort of spell.

I really wish I could get to the damn fighting already.

* * *

Turn page.

The dragon lying on the grass behind me moves around a little bit in her sleep and turns over before falling back into the land of dreams.

The wind around me lightly pushes my hair as I continue reading, while sitting at base of the outer wall.

Turn page.

"Taaaaaaaabiiiithaaaaaa...!"

A speeding mage dashes and slides right up to me and wraps one arm around me and leans against Sylphid not even a second later.

Sylphid wakes up and blearily stares around, surprised at the unknown surroundings and people already beginning to panic, I raise my hand and pat her to tell her to go back to sleep and not to worry.

She blinks, her eyes looking back and forth between me and Kirche who is currently jamming my head between her breasts and talking incessantly about some boy, again while squeezing me. My dragon breathes out what could have been construed as a huff, making my hair billow a little as she lays her head back down on the grass while giving the larger mage a strange look.

A lot of people tend to give Kirche strange looks, especially when she decides to hug me.

Though she doesn't hold me from the front and makes sure to keep my line of sight clear and to not knock off my glasses or book despite her energetic glomping, which is quite thoughtful of her. She's a good friend.

Turn page.

"Are you even listening Tabitha?" I shake my head once and she huffs, surprisingly indignant even though I am quite sure she should know by now that I don't listen to the first few seconds of any of her ramblings whenever she chooses to attack me like this.

"It's about that guy Louise summoned, listen, listen!"

White hair, balanced stance, powerful build, Dangerous Eyes.

Turn back page. Set bookmark. Close book.

I meet her gaze as I set the book down on my lap. It can wait. A strange smirk appears on her face as she raises her eyebrow.

"Oooh, I know, right. He's quite something. So we've finally found your type, huh? How about we share, hmm?"

Open book, turn page.

"Ooh! Don't be like that, I'll let you go first!" She laughs for some reason and squeezes me again. It feels nice enough, though she does get quite liberal with my person. If only she were a bit more quiet. And didn't shake me around so much.

"Now, listen. I think there's something strange about him, though." She begins explaining, no doubt about to regale me of how she wooed him in some empty classroom. I wonder what takedown she chose this time. I would guess she would try to incorporate her new familiar into her hunting as soon as possible, but I can't be sure.

"So, I was talking to him, you know once I found him and used the _hit & run_ to get to talk to him, you know that one right?"

Yes, I am quite familiar with the Hit & Run maneuver. After all Kirche roped me into being the test dummy so she could master the fall for it. 'Marshmallow hell', the Germanians apparently called it.

The idea was to appear out of nowhere, make a massive entrance by running into someone and then falling over them so Kirche could stuff their head between her breasts and then turning around after giving her name and running off as if she was busy. Make an impression like that.

Applying Germanian military tactics of 'Rapid Dominance' and 'Shock & Awe' into courting habits was somehow so very _Kirche_.

Hit fast, hit hard, leave them begging for more.

Turn pa-

"But get this, I couldn't make him fall?"

Dangerous Eyes, balanced stance, restrained violence.

I freeze in mid-motion with the page, my eyes rising up and giving my friend a very close look over. _Dangerous Eyes_.

"Hurt?"

"Huh? What? No, I'm fine don't worry!" She squeezes me again. "I did it perfectly, with a running start and everything! But he didn't even budge! You should have felt him, Birmir, he was _all_ muscle."

Kirche begins mock fanning her face. Of course she would be fine, nothing would happen to her here at the Academy. I return to my book-

I've ripped the page a little, where I had been holding it at the edge when turning the page. I will have to mend it later. I feel a little guilty.

"So I got into talking with him, right? And I think he might have slipped while talking, because who wouldn't when talking to me, right? I'm gorgeous!"

I nod. She is.

"So, I was thinking I'd try and asking him if he really was hired by Louise to pretend to be her familiar or something, but when I introduced myself he called himself 'Archer the Terrible'! And then he tried to pretend it was nothing, but I saw his eyes, there's a story behind it. I just know it!"

"Runic name?"

Turn page.

Kirche nods vigorously and squeezes me again.

"See, this is why I love you so much, Tabitha. You're so smart! I thought the exact same thing, so even though he didn't fall I still figured I'd try and keep it short, you know for impact." She continues, before leaning in closer and shiftily looking around for anyone listening in.

"I think he might be a mage, hired by her family. You know like, if her magic suddenly starts working because her 'Commoner' familiar is with her everywhere, it'd be pretty scandalous if something like that got out, right?" Her air quotes causes her arms to unwrap from around me and suddenly I feel a bit chilly.

Kirche's arm return around me quickly enough, though. She always did seem very warm, maybe fire mages have warmer bodies?

"But..." The tone of her voice makes me look up and I see her eyes saddened for some reason. "I wonder about Louise, though..."

Strangely enough, despite being Louise's biggest mocker, Kirche is also the one often most worried about the pink haired mage. Despite the longstanding rivalry between the Zerbst and the Valliére, Kirche really did seem to want the best for Louise.

Or perhaps because of that ancient rivalry; wanting her rival as strong as possible so she could crush her at her greatest. Or steal her away like that one Valliére a few generations back. It was hard to tell with Kirche at times, it was possible she didn't even know herself yet.

"Secret."

Turn page.

Kirche blinks and looks down at me with a strange expression, before giving a warm smile. She untangles herself from me and gets up, dusting her skirt and cloak a bit before smiling again.

"Yeah, it'll be our secret for now. It wouldn't be fun to mess with Louise with something like that, right? Who knows, we might even be able to blackmail that threesome out of it." She cackles and turns around to leave. "I have to wake up Flame, I'll see you at dinner, right?"

And she leaves me with my book, my dragon and my blush.

* * *

I take a deep breath and raise my hand to knock. Might as well get this over with.

"Master? I'm coming in."

I wait a second, listening in for any protest, before entering the room. I close the door behind me as my eyes find her easily enough. She's still by the desk, sitting on her chair. Except she's fallen asleep and is drooling onto her book.

It's strange how I'd misjudged her so easily. I only realize this now that I'd had some time to reflect.

I'd misjudged her small stature, seemingly ruthless nature and complete refusal to acknowledge her peers as something it wasn't. I had thought she was like Illya, a sociopath firecracker, driven and dangerous and beyond reproach from mere humans. But that wasn't quite right, and that was probably for the better.

I really loved Illya and her death weighed heavily on me for years, and still probably does, but to call her anything short of completely crazy would be a bold-faced lie.

But really, this girl, she seemed so much more like Rin now that I'd managed to get a glimpse beneath her icy exterior. Surprisingly brittle and insecure yet so very determined to never ever crack or appear as anything less than flawless.

Though whereas Rin was a once in a hundred years prodigy, Louise hadn't had any such luck.

"Master." I shake her shoulder gently, but am only rewarded with a bleary mumble followed by what could be the cutest snore I'd ever heard.

I ignore the voice of Illya's ghost shouting for me to draw a mustache on her before she wakes up in my head and shake her again.

"Master." I give her another gentle nudge, ignoring the voice of Taiga commanding me to draw whiskers on her face as well. "Louise...?" I venture.

"Sis...?" Her eyes open and she looks around, clearly still half-asleep but on her way to the land of the living once again. "Cattleya?"

Finally her eyes meet mine and her expression changes again. Slowly, it morphs from half-awake to slightly-out-of-it to thinking-very-hard-and-disbelieving to surprise. Her mouth falls open and she stares for a moment, not saying anything.

I feel I should repeat myself, but I don't think I've given her quite enough time to wake up yet.

"Y-you came back...?"

I blink and stare in turn. I'm not sure whether it was a question or a statement, and thus choose to remain silent. The silence stretches on for several seconds, the mood already becoming awkward.

"Yes, of course I did. I sleep here, remember?" I nudge at the pile of hay with my head.

And her jaw drops completely, for no reason I can even begin to guess at, I've left her speechless. Am I really that bad at talking to people? I always did feel a bit awkward talking to people outside my immediate group of acquaintances, but I'd assumed I was at least usually on the same page with people.

"Dinner has been prepared. I assume you are finished with your studies if you had time to take a nap." I give her a sardonic reply, the break her out of her thoughts, seeing as how my quip went un-appreciated.

"I wasn't sleeping!" She hastily denies.

"You have drool on your chin." I simply point out, causing her to flush and hastily begin wiping her lower face with her sleeve. "And on your book." I continue, watching as she panics over the pool of drool now soaking the page of the thick leather-bound tome. "And your blouse is wrinkled and unbuttoned."

She straightens her clothes, before finally realizing I've been chastising her now for close to a minute. I can see her struggling to come up with a reasonable complaint or argument to throw at me, but coming up with nothing she stews in her silence, thus only content with glaring at me.

"Well then, dinner awaits?" I smirk and gesture at the door.

She huffs and takes off.

I easily follow after her, despite her best attempts at leaving me behind. Finally after minute of silent walking, she slows down to a more reasonable pace, having realized she stands next to no chance of physically out-running me despite her determination.

"You called me Louise..." She breaks the silence, not looking up from ahead of her.

"I did." She doesn't say anything to that, which I find surprising. I had expected her to order for me to only call her by her title, or perhaps even Miss Valliére or the like. I had expected a chastisement, not... a lack of any kind of reaction.

"It's a beautiful name." I bite out the continuation of 'for a beautiful girl', realizing that using my stock flirting phrases for dealing with women probably won't serve me well here, hoping to distract her.

She seems surprised at my words, but doesn't look up.

"You can call me that, if... If you want."

We walk on in silence for a few more moments before Louise comes to a halt in the middle of a open hallway intersection, close to the stairways.

"Why did you... Why did you forsake your name, Archer?" She still doesn't look at me and I can't see her face from where I'm standing behind her.

Well now. I hadn't expected that. What am I supposed to answer to a question like that? 'I came to realize what a pathetic idiot I was and came to hate everything I've ever worked for.'? No, that would just raise more questions, not to mention it's needlessly melodramatic. I don't even think she quite understands that I'm already dead yet, either. I'm not quite sure if should tell her that.

"Why does one forsake their name?" Shoot back, noting quite pleased that none of my bitterness seeps through. I'm regaining control over myself again, I suppose the cooking helped.

I hadn't intended it to be a rhetoric question, but a simple deflection, but I'm thankful nonetheless as we continue on in silence.

* * *

_Louise._

_Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière._

_That is her name. But most called her Louise the Zero. She would never admit it, but that mocking nickname hurt her more than anything._

_Valliére. It was a heavy name to bear, a burden of Nobility to carry. Her mother spoke of the Rule of Steel and enforced it with a strong arm._

_Her name was heavy. Or at least she thought it was._

_Did that mean she would forsake it? Could she?_

_She wanted to say no, to dash that as a pathetic notion and ignore it as foolish escapism, a plea for herlp, at something easier. Could she just accept that she would be married off and just be content with her lot in life?_

_She wanted to say no._

_But her name was heavy. _

_Archer had discarded his name, for reasons she could only guess at. Was he running away from something, hiding from the weight it brought with it? Was his name truly too painful to bear? _

_Was hers?_

_"Louise..."_

_She'd thought she was back home, being awoken by Cattleya once again, away from all the other young nobles of the Academy. No one spoke her name like that at the Academy. It was always 'Louise the Zero' or the way they said it made it sound like an insult like it was a joke._

_And those who didn't mock her always used more proper titles, like Miss Valliére. It really wasn't proper, to let a stranger who was probably a commoner call her by her given name even if he was her familiar, but did she really care anymore?_

_Louise frowned and merely continued walking on._

* * *

You know, I told myself I'd finish the first day with this chapter, but I'm really not quite getting it to work. I feel a bit uncertain on the characters, and I hope no one will call me out on anything but we'll see.

I'm also taking a bit of liberties with the magic sensing. I tried re-reading the VN for parts of how it works, but it's left a bit vague. Shirou's nose doesn't seem to directly tied to it, but seems special nonetheless, and I do have a sort of interesting explanation in mind for it.

Oh and Louise came out pretty angsty, huh.


End file.
